


Love Me Again

by TabbyCat33098



Category: Big Time Rush (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kendall POV, M/M, inspired by the song of the same name, not super shmoopy but not angsty either?, set in a nightclub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 16:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15822696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TabbyCat33098/pseuds/TabbyCat33098
Summary: Kendall goes to a nightclub. Several times. Sometimes he leaves with James. Sometimes he doesn't.





	Love Me Again

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really out here writing BTR fic like it's 2014 again huh!
> 
> Long story short, college did a phenomenal job of robbing me of my passion for writing. But then I listened to Love Me Again a few times and was struck by an idea and decided, why the hell not, I might as well write something silly and fun and just mess around with writing to remember why I decided to get a whole damn minor in it. The result is this fic lmao. But I had fun writing it, so even if it's ultimately nothing more than incoherent garbage, I'm alright with that.
> 
> There's like 2 sentences in here that might qualify this fic for an M rating, but I'm not 100% certain. So please let me know if this is mistagged!
> 
> As always, comments are kudos are my lifeblood. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**1.**

The first thing Kendall notices about the guy is his hair. The sides of his head are shaved, but he has at least two inches of thick brown waves piled atop his head, artfully tousled but stopping just short of being downright messy. Though the man must have used a ridiculous amount of product, his hair appears neither greasy nor stiff in the bright strobe lights of the club. Instead, Kendall thinks it looks almost weightless, swaying easily through the air as the man gets down and dirty to the beat. Inexplicably, Kendall wants to run his hands through the guy’s hair, wants to dig in with his fingers and see if it’s really as soft as it looks. Wants to know what the guy would do if Kendall tugged just a little too hard, trailing his fingers down to the nape of his neck—

Kendall pulls himself out of his daze, feeling slightly ashamed that his mouth is dry just because he saw a guy with a nice haircut. He pulls his drink closer and sips at it absently, wondering, not for the first time, why he’s here.

When he looks up again, he finds his gaze is drawn once again to that same guy. This time, Kendall rakes his eyes down the guy’s full figure, swallowing back the weird guilt he feels for ogling the man’s hair without looking at the man himself. He realizes doing so was a mistake; not only is the guy ridiculously toned, but he’s also looking at Kendall curiously. Kendall feels frozen, pinned in place. He can’t break the eye contact even if he wanted to.

The guy suddenly tilts his head backwards, elongating his neck and looking at Kendall through half-lidded eyes. He parts his lips slightly, wets them with the tip of his tongue. He raises one hand and slowly, torturously, curls one finger in a come-hither gesture.

If Kendall were here with Logan, he would look away and pretend he hadn’t seen anything. He would ask for another shot and avoid eye contact with the hot stranger for the rest of the night, ignoring how the tips of his ears are burning and how his pants have tightened ever so slightly. He would get a little buzzed, and then he would ask Logan if he wanted to play drunk video games, and he would be able to pretend his empty apartment didn’t make his chest physically ache for one more night.

But he isn’t here with Logan. He’s here alone, and he’ll be going home alone if he doesn’t make up his mind soon. Brunette Adonis is doing body rolls on the dance floor now, disregarding his complete lack of synchronization with the techno track blasting from the speakers. Kendall can’t help but smile; the guy is obviously here to have fun, and Kendall has no doubt he’ll find someone else easily if Kendall turns him down.

But Kendall could use a little fun tonight. He stands up and pushes his way through the crowd.

**2.**

“And then she slapped me!” Logan says shrilly, his hands waving wildly in the air. Kendall surreptitiously moves Logan’s White Russian out of the way of his flailing limbs. Logan’s already a little hysterical, and Kendall doesn’t want to see those hysterics intensify if Logan ruins his favorite navy blue cardigan by spilling alcohol on it.

“So you guys are on a break again?” Kendall has to shout to be heard over the music, but he might as well have whispered for all that Logan cares.

“So we’re off again, I guess, and she didn’t even tell me why, and what am I doing, Kendall? Why can’t I just find a nice girl who doesn’t slap me every time she needs some space?” Logan whines, as though Kendall hadn’t said anything.

Kendall sighs. He scans the club with a sharp eye, looking for someone who fits Logan’s type.

Instead, he finds Brunette Adonis, this time leaning casually against the bar, holding a bright blue drink and chatting with another guy. As luck would have it, Brunette Adonis looks up just as Kendall sees him, smiling widely when he obviously recognizes Kendall. Kendall starts and quickly turns his attention back to Logan, who is now staring sullenly into his drink.

“There’s a girl over there who looks cute,” he says to Logan, pointing vaguely across the club. “You should go talk to her.” Logan squints first at Kendall and then across the club. A moment later, he shrugs and wanders unsteadily in the direction Kendall had indicated.

Kendall returns his gaze to Brunette Adonis, who, he realizes now, hadn’t actually told Kendall his name when they’d hooked up. Brunette Adonis is still looking at him, and once he has Kendall’s attention, he very deliberately sets down his drink, pats his friend on the arm, and makes his way to the edge of the dance floor.

Kendall is helpless but to follow.

Adonis latches onto Kendall the moment he’s close enough, pulling Kendall in so that his back is flush against the other man’s chest. He rests his hands on Kendall’s hips, helping Kendall dance along with the song. “Fancy meeting you here again,” Adonis says into Kendall’s ear, lips brushing lightly against his skin.

Oh, this is such a bad idea, Kendall thinks. If they hook up again, Adonis goes from being a one-night stand, someone Kendall could easily relegate to the back of his mind and never think about again, to being _more_. And Kendall isn’t ready for _more_. He had barely been ready for _more_ when he’d met Jo.

But Jo is gone, and Adonis is here, and Kendall is lonely.

“We still haven’t properly met,” Kendall says later, as Adonis is sucking a bruise into the juncture of his neck and collarbone.

“We should fix that,” Adonis replies, grinning. “I’m James.”

Kendall grins, too. “Kendall. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

**3.**

“Your place or mine?”

Kendall starts. His beer sloshes out of the stein as he whips around to face James, who had been determinedly sliding his hand into one of Kendall’s back pockets. As Kendall turns, James gets stuck, and he yelps sharply before managing to extricate his hand from Kendall’s jeans.

It’s the first time Kendall has seen James act less than elegant, and he finds himself distracted enough by the yelp that he forgets he was just in the middle of a conversation.

“Who the hell is this?” Logan demands. He’s already had a few beers; Camille mentioned she wanted to talk to him tomorrow, and he’s trying to drown his anxiety in alcohol so he won’t overthink himself into distress.

“Oh, uh,” Kendall says then hesitates. He hasn’t told Logan about James yet, despite having left Logan alone at the club to hook up with James. As far as Logan knows, Kendall had developed a migraine and gone home early. And although Kendall feels guilty for hiding this from his best friend, he isn’t ready to share James just yet. “I have no idea,” he says finally. He turns to James and crosses his arms, hoping desperately that James will play along. “Who the hell are you?”

To his credit, James only looks confused for about thirty seconds before shrugging and deciding not to question Kendall’s sudden amnesia. “I can be your angel or your devil,” he says. His voice has dropped nearly a full octave, and he trains an intense gaze on Kendall, ignoring Logan entirely. “Either way, the heavens opened up when I saw you. Whether I’m the one who fell or you are depends entirely on how well this is working.” He still sounds sultry, but then he winks at Kendall, and it’s all Kendall can do not to burst out laughing.

Logan, meanwhile, has been in stitches since James said his first line. “Yeah, Kendall, get some!” he whoops, loudly enough that a few girls further down the bar glance in their direction. “It’s been long enough since Jo dumped you, go have some fun! I’ll be fine, I can get drunk alone. Maybe Camille will take pity on me if I show up hungover…” He heads off to hunt down the bartender, saying farewell to Kendall with a dismissive handwave.

James takes the opportunity to sneak his index fingers into Kendall’s belt loops and pull Kendall close, punching a short gasp out of Kendall’s mouth. He immediately presses his lips to Kendall’s, barely giving Kendall a chance to get his bearings before switching tactics and nibbling insistently on Kendall’s lower lip. He shifts so his mouth is next to Kendall’s ear, dropping light kisses along the way. “You know I’ll make it good,” he says.

Kendall shivers. James is intoxicating. Kendall would find his cockiness offputting if he didn’t know firsthand that James had every right to be arrogant. “Yeah,” he agrees without stopping to think. “Alright.”

**4.**

**_From: James_ **

_The way those jeans hug your ass makes me want to take you right there, up against the bar._

Kendall swallows and feels his face grow warm. He instinctively ducks his head to hide his obvious blush before realizing that the neon strobe lights flashing through the darkness distort color enough to make his blush effectively invisible.

Not that it matters. Logan is too busy locking lips with Camille to pay Kendall any attention. Though Kendall is just as happy as Logan that Camille has finally decided she wants to be with Logan officially—no more breaks, no more slapping—he can’t ignore the annoyance bubbling in his stomach. It’s hard to be a third wheel when he’d had his own bicycle until a month ago. “I don’t know how to function on a tricycle,” he mumbles nonsensically. “Which wheel would I even be? The front wheel? Or one of the tiny back ones?”

It’s possible he’s had one too many vodka cranberries.

He still hasn’t replied to James, either, but this is one problem he can easily rectify. They had exchanged numbers last time, reasoning that they might want to hook up without using the club as an intermediary rendezvous point. But if James is commenting on Kendall’s jeans, that must mean he’s here tonight, and that he can see Kendall to boot.

**_To: James_ **

_come over here nd do it then_

_if you were a wheel on a trike youd be the front one probbly_

“Hey, Kendall!” Logan shouts into Kendall’s ear. Kendall startles and fumbles his phone, but Logan catches it easily and steadies Kendall against the barstool. “Camille and I are heading out. Are you gonna be okay?”

Kendall considers. Selfishly, he wants to say no, wants to ask Logan to stay so they can hang out again and maybe play drunk GTA V later tonight. Between Kendall hooking up with James and Logan trying to appease Camille, Kendall hasn’t seen his best friend in several weeks. But then he sees the identical smiles Logan and Camille are sporting, sappy and surreptitious like they don’t want Kendall seeing, and he folds. “Yeah,” he agrees cheerfully. “James’ll get me home.”

Logan eyes him. “You and James have fun tonight,” he says finally. Kendall gets the feeling that Logan means more than he’s saying, but he doesn’t have the mental capacity to parse Logan’s enigmatic ways of speaking. Instead, Kendall gives Logan a sloppy salute, watching wistfully as Logan wraps an arm around Camille and leads her out of the club.

“Jo and I could have had that,” he says forlornly. His phone screen stays dark.

He turns back to the bartender to order another drink, only to hear a familiar voice say “Actually, could he get a water instead?” Kendall turns cautiously, and sure enough, James is standing beside him. He’s elated, and then instantaneously he’s upset. “You didn’t text back!” he accuses.

“I did you one better and gave you the gift of myself,” James says, preening. He licks his lips, subconsciously rather than seductively, but Kendall finds himself entranced anyway. James’ lips are the perfect shape, he muses. His cupid bow looks like it was chiseled by Michelangelo himself.

“Alright, that’s enough for you. You need to sleep,” James says. He presses a glass of water into Kendall’s hands and waits for Kendall to gulp down every last drop before hauling Kendall off the barstool and draping Kendall’s arm around his shoulder. “Where do you live?”

Kendall glares at him. His head is filled with cotton and white noise, slowly merging into one hell of a migraine, which is only exacerbated by the bone-shaking bass of whatever song the DJ is mixing right now. “You’re going to murder me, aren’t you,” he says. “You’re going to slit my throat in my sleep and then harvest my organs to sell on the black market.” He chances a look at James, but James looks constipated, and Kendall doesn’t know what that means, so he just tucks his head into James’ shoulder and lets James drag him towards the exit.

“I can’t…you know. Bribe you with my tight ass tonight,” he says to James’ shirt. It’s a surprisingly soft shirt. Silk, maybe? “I could blow you, though. Would a blowjob convince you not to kill me?”

James’ chest vibrates with laughter. It’s comforting. Kendall closes his eyes. “Nah,” James says, “I don’t take bribes. But I also don’t kill drunk people. It takes away the challenge,” he whispers conspiratorially.

“That’s terrifying,” Kendall tells James, but he’s grinning so hard into James’ silk shirt that his lips are starting to hurt. He feels a little like he’s flying, and though that might just be because of the alcohol, a small part of him knows it’s also because James is being ridiculous and wonderful. Distantly, he thinks he ought to examine that more closely; James is just a hookup, a nice set of abs attached to a magical mouth and the truly spectacular ability to find Kendall’s prostate by the third stroke without fail. It shouldn’t matter that James is going out of his way to take care of Kendall despite knowing he won’t be getting any sex if he does.

That’s a problem for future-Kendall, though. Now-Kendall is perfectly content with being folded into a taxi and then rearranged so he can nestle his head against James’ (rock solid) pec. Vaguely he hears James rattle off his own address to the driver, hears James say, “We’re just going to sleep tonight. No funky business.” He hears a car honk in the distance, and then he hears nothing.

**5.**

Kendall sees James and immediately sprints towards the restroom. He locks himself into a stall and contemplates his options.

He could stay here until the club closes. Surely James won’t stick around that long. Maybe he’ll even find another tall blonde twink to take home and take apart at the seams. On the other hand, club management might think Kendall is doing drugs here and kick him out. Plus, he’s almost certain he’ll start to feel hungry and leave to hunt down sustenance long before the club closes at 3 am.

He could make a beeline for the exit and try to catch a cab before James can chase him down. But James is both taller and more athletic than Kendall, so he has little hope of outrunning James.

He could pretend to be his own evil twin, visiting from the other side of the country. His name could be Wendell, and if James tries to talk to him, he’ll act like he’s never seen the other man before. It would give him an excuse for ignoring James’ text messages, too; how could Wendell respond to James if he doesn’t have James’ phone number in the first place?

Kendall is in the process of figuring out whether Wendell should have an accent when he realizes how ridiculous he’s being. So maybe he had slept in James’ bed, woken up tucked snugly in James’ embrace, and then left James’ apartment before James woke up without so much as leaving a note. And maybe he had ignored the seventeen texts James had sent since then, growing increasingly frantic as Kendall continued maintaining radio silence. And, okay, maybe Kendall had steadfastly avoided the nightclub for a full three weeks afterwards, instead playing video games alone at home and trying to convince himself he could still fall asleep without a warm body by his side.

But that shouldn’t matter. James is just a hookup. By all rights he ought to be disposable; Kendall could replace him with any number of muscled brunettes out there looking for a quick tumble in the sheets. So why does Kendall feel so guilty about maybe having hurt James’ feelings?

“Stupid,” he says to himself, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes in a weak attempt to push away the guilt. This is why he doesn’t do hookups, and especially not more than once with the same person. It’s all too easy to fall, to get caught up in wanting to unravel the other person out of bed as well as in it.

But Kendall tries to face his problems head-on; he finds it’s the easiest way to get rid of them without any lingering doubts or unresolved tension. So now he needs to find James and apologize for ghosting him, and then he needs to tell James that he can’t do this anymore. He can’t afford to care about a hookup. Kendall takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and leaves the stall.

Only to bump directly into James, who is standing next to the bathroom stall and playing a game on his phone.

“Kendall!” James says cheerfully, no trace of resentment or hurt apparent in his expression, and Kendall falters.

“You’re not upset,” he says, and then instantly berates himself. Is he trying to provoke James into being mad?

James only shrugs. “Why, because you didn’t stay for breakfast? Come on dude, it’s not like we’re dating.”

And now Kendall feels stupid. Of course James wasn’t upset. Of course Kendall was working himself up for no reason. There he goes again, getting overly attached and placing unfounded expectations on the other person. He needs to end this.

“I can’t hook up with you again,” he says. “I just got out of a relationship, and I’m still getting over it. It’s not fair to you.”

“Alright,” James replies without missing a beat. “How do you feel about coming back with me one last night? Call it proper closure.”

“I can’t,” Kendall says helplessly.

James raises his hands, palms up, in a what-can-you-do gesture. “You know where to find me if you change your mind,” he says. He turns on his heel and leaves the restroom. Kendall remains rooted in place, feeling oddly like he’s lost something he didn’t realize he had in the first place.

**6.**

Kendall’s leg bounces up and down rapidly, knocking into the barstool every so often and causing him to flinch. He’s antsy and he knows exactly why, which only serves to aggravate his anxiety. He hadn’t realized how nice it was to have someone else’s hands on his body, someone else’s mouth on his own. His own hand had paled in comparison, leaving him buzzing with the need to seek someone out again. And he knows immediately that it has to be James.

A moment later, he spots James on the dance floor, gyrating against a petite girl with jet black hair. Kendall knocks back the rest of his beer and pushes his way through the crowd until he’s able to press himself flush to James’ back. He skims a hand across James’ waist before dipping it into James’ jeans, caressing James’ hip and edging dangerously close to his crotch. Simultaneously, he drops his mouth to James’ neck and begins peppering wet kisses down the line of his shoulder. He notices with some gratification that James has disentangled himself from the girl. He smirks when James lolls his head back and rests it on Kendall’s shoulder, offering the rest of his neck for Kendall’s taking.

Later, as James is pushing Kendall up against the wall of a bathroom stall, he asks, “What made you change your mind?”

From this close, Kendall can see that James is wearing eyeliner. It’s a good look on the other man; it leaves Kendall’s mouth dry. “Call it closure,” he says hoarsely, and breaks off into a whine as James finally wiggles his hand into Kendall’s boxers.

**7.**

Once is an accident, twice is a habit. What does that make five times?

“Or maybe it’s four times?” Kendall says. “We didn’t hook up the night you and Camille got back together.”

Logan’s hands are steepled beneath his chin, lending him the look of a wise sage preparing to bestow life-altering advice unto Kendall instead of the long-suffering chemistry grad student he actually is. “It makes it a mutually beneficial arrangement. You get to learn that there are people out there who aren’t Jo, he gets his tip wet, there you go.”

Kendall glares at him, but his heart isn’t in the gesture. “I know Jo isn’t the only person out there,” he protests halfheartedly. “I just don’t want anyone else.”

“Is that what you tell James every time you get naked together?”

Kendall winces because yeah, that’s a fair point. Does he really miss Jo as much as he claims to if he’s able to have sex with someone else on a semi-regular basis? “Jo made me happy outside the bedroom, too. It’s not like that with James.”

Logan looks unimpressed. “So why do you keep going back?”

Because Kendall is addicted. Because somewhere between James’ stupid pickup lines and the tenderness with which James cleaned Kendall up after every tryst, Kendall started wanting more. He wanted to see how far he could go before everything fell apart.

Things haven’t fallen apart yet, which means he can go further. Kendall isn’t one to back down from a challenge.

Logan sighs when Kendall doesn’t respond. “Look, he doesn’t have to be the next potential Mr. Knight. But he’s obviously doing something right, because you haven’t asked me for a round of drunk Mario Kart in almost two months. Just see where it takes you, man. Have some fun. Forget about Jo for a little bit. You deserve to be happy, you know?”

**8.**

When Kendall reaches the bar, he spots a familiar blonde ponytail a few seats down. Instantly, he freezes up, wondering hysterically why he always seems to notice people for their hair before anything else. He is forced to calm down when the bartender turns to him for his order, and when he speaks, he sees Jo turn towards him out of the corner of his eye.

Jo scoots over to him. He pretends not to notice until she taps on his elbow. “Oh, Jo! Hi,” he says, forcing himself to smile. “How’s filming going?”

She smiles, too, albeit hesitantly, like she doesn’t know how to talk to Kendall despite being the one who approached him. “We wrapped filming a couple days ago, actually. But I landed a part as ‘leading girl’s best friend’ in an Australian indie rom-com, so I’m flying out again next week to start filming for that.”

“That’s really great,” Kendall says, and he means it. But he also feels like her words are metal-tipped darts, and his heart is a magnet which seems to be attracting them all in an attempt to cause him maximum pain. “Keep this up, and you’ll be winning an Oscar in no time.”

“That’s the dream,” she agrees. “How have you been? It’s been a while since we talked.” That’s one way to put it. A less delicate version of events wouldn’t gloss over how Kendall had blocked her number out of spite and heartbreak right before she flew out to New Zealand, only to find upon unblocking her a month later that she had changed her number and he no longer had any way of contacting her.

“I’m doing good. Hanging out with Logan, working retail, you know how it is,” he says. Her smile widens, and she pats his elbow again. He tries not to stare at her hand and wonder why she isn’t moving it away. Tries not to wonder if she’d moved on already while he’d been pining, hoping for a reconciliation that would never come.

“That’s good to hear! Listen, I’m here with friends, so I have to go, but maybe we can catch up before I leave?” she asks. He nods. She smiles and hurries away.

The moment her back is turned, Kendall whips out his phone. Logan and Camille are on a date tonight, so he texts James instead.

**_To: James_ **

_Wanna hang out? I need to get my mind off something._

He doesn’t think about how easy it was to text James until much later, when James pulls out two game controllers while Kendall is pulling on his boxers and suggests playing some games before calling it a night. He doesn’t think about how easy it is to fall asleep next to James, instinctively wrapping his arm around James’ waist, at all.

**9.**

Kendall can feel sweat beading on every square inch of exposed skin he’s baring tonight. James pulled him into the throng of dancers an hour ago, saying only “You’re hot when you’re out there” when Kendall had questioned him. But the press of bodies around them is starting to raise Kendall’s core temperature an uncomfortable amount, and he finally, regretfully disentangles himself from James and heads to the bar for a drink.

Once he has a drink in hand, he turns to find James in the crowd again. Because if Kendall is hot when he dances, James is a downright wildfire. As Kendall’s luck would have it, he catches James right as the brunette goes down in a slut drop. James bounces a few times while he’s squatting then pops back up, his hands running across his pelvis and thighs all the while.

As though he feels Kendall’s eyes on him, James turns to face Kendall’s direction and beckons him over, just as he had that very first night. Kendall shakes his head and raises his still-half-full drink, and James shrugs and goes back to burning up the dance floor. Kendall is mesmerized. He’s cooled down enough that he could go back to dancing, but he’d rather sit here and take in James in all his sensual glory.

Still, he doesn’t protest when James comes and bodily manhandles Kendall back towards the music. Watching James dance might be fun, but being a prop in James’ routine is intoxicating.

**10.**

“I seem to have a problem with staying away from you.”

“Then don’t.”

In the end, it’s as simple as that.


End file.
